Canvas
by Peppermint Poison
Summary: 3 years after Dark and Krad are sealed away, the seal is released. What happens when the angels come back in their own bodies? ODD PAIRINGS: Mainly KradxDaisuke but also some DarkxRisa.
1. Chapter 1

Every day was the same.

Nothing ever changed. He was never late for school, always arriving within the same three-minute period. He went through his classes in an attentive stupor; interaction with other people was forced. When he got home, he stopped for little more than a few minutes to make his presence known before retreating to his bedroom.

He rarely drew or painted anymore. His materials lay scattered about his room as though he did nothing else, but in reality, he had touched them only a few times since that abhorred day. He had been so sure that Riku would, if nothing else, be a source of inspiration in this dismal life called normalcy. Time and again, this hope had been crushed.

Daisuke knew he was being dramatic. It had already been three years, and yet he still was unable to move on. He was suffering with a life that was nothing short of perfect—he had a steady girlfriend, flawless grades, loving parents, and plenty of friends. But his reaction was only natural to him. It was called for. He had never realized how much he'd loved that annoying voice in the back of his head until it was gone; Dark was gone, sealed away just like the art he used to steal.

Needless to say, Risa wasn't taking it very well. She managed to put up a façade that was almost as smooth and opaque as Daisuke's, but it was riddled with tiny little faults that tended to give her away. Riku, conversely, would have been glad for Dark's absence if not for her treasured sister's anguish. And she would have grown tired of this anguish if not for its utter sincerity.

Satoshi was the only other person who knew what had happened. Ever since Krad had left the picture, Satoshi's father had all but abandoned him. As a matter of fact, it was only for the sake of his reputation that he bothered to keep the boy at all. Regardless of any of this, however, Satoshi had refused to bear the name of his father. Neither he nor Daisuke quite understood why, but Satoshi had exchanged the name Hiwatari for his true name, Hikari. No matter how many times he and Daisuke discussed it, he could only say that it felt like the right thing to do. Daisuke often wondered whether Satoshi really was so relieved to be rid of Krad.

Today was no different from the rest. Daisuke walked home with Riku in near silence while Risa rode the train. It hadn't always been this way—they used to talk. They had simply run out of things to say.

He walked her to her door, smiling just as warmly as he did every day. She turned away from the door and he gave her a brief but tender kiss, pulling away to find her smiling up at him. Her eyes glittered with tiny stars until one fell streaming down her cheek, and Daisuke bid his "sacred maiden" farewell.

It was all so wrong.

"I'm home!"

Daisuke's voice, deeper now than it had been three years ago, but not by much, sounded like sunlight after a storm. It was only as bright as the clouds would allow it to be, but no matter what, it always managed to burst through the gloom.

"Oh, welcome home, Dai!" Emiko exclaimed. Until that moment, she had been busying herself by cleaning the already spotless kitchen; now she threw down her sponge to embrace her son. "How was your day?"

Daisuke laughed inwardly. She was so enthusiastic. "It was fine. We got our tests back today. My scores were second again."

Emiko released Daisuke and he picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder on his way to the stairs. He found his grandfather on the sofa, newspaper in hand, but his father was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, Daisuke, that's wonderful! At this rate you'll do better than Hiwatari soon!"

Daisuke came to a halt at the foot of the stairs. Without turning around, his voice demandingly gentle, he said, "Mom, it's Hikari."

By the time she could formulate an appropriate response, he had vanished. And even then, all she could say was, "Oh. Right."

Upstairs, Daisuke mechanically set his bag down by his desk and pulled out his textbooks. Rather than actually sitting down to do the work, however, he remained standing to stare at the blank canvas that sat idly on his easel across the room. On the floor around it were tubes of red and blue paint; the palette nearby was covered in crumbling chunks of dried purple.

At his feet, Wiz whined like he had without end for the last three years. Daisuke looked down at him and smiled, and a tear ran down his cheek.

"I know, Wiz," he said, unable to keep his voice strong anymore. "I know."

The boy's brilliant crimson eyes flicked back to the violet gobs of useless acrylic paint, and the tears became rivers on his face. He fell to his knees, gripping his shoulders, silently releasing the emotions that had surfaced against his will. Not a sound escaped his lips except the ragged gasps that allowed him to breathe. Wiz whimpered quietly and Daisuke snatched him up into his arms, and he lost it. He couldn't think. He wanted to reach out and turn all of that paint into the face he missed so terribly, but he couldn't, and he knew it.

There was a remarkable difference between crying and this heaving that racked Daisuke's body. When people cried, Daisuke knew, they wailed and sniffed and babbled about their misery. They were constantly wiping the tears out of their eyes. They could breathe. This pain was the kind that stole away all of the air in his lungs, the kind that pounded relentlessly into his temples and lasted longer than the tears. This was what he had been left with.

When Wiz whined again, Daisuke seemed to realize for the first time the condition he was in. In one fluid motion, he placed Wiz on the floor and rose to his feet, haphazardly drying his eyes with one hand as he stumbled to his desk.

He knew he was being dramatic.

He knew, but he couldn't help it.

Homework was Daisuke's savior. It forced him to focus on something, keeping his mind from wandering to those agonizing memories. It stopped him from forgetting that he was alone and having conversations with the silence.

But he always finished too soon. After arranging his books by size in his bag, Daisuke stood and stretched. A lingering ache tore at the sides of his head. With a drawn-out sigh, the redhead made his way downstairs in search of tea, only to meet an appetizing aroma in the hallway.

"Hey, Mom," the boy greeted his mother as he entered the kitchen. Emiko looked up from her work and beamed.

"Are you getting hungry already, Dai? Or did you just smell this delicious minestrone all the way upstairs?"

Daisuke shook his head, grinning. "I'm just looking for some tea. Do we have any peppermint left?"

"Oh. Yes, I'm sure we do—it should be in the cupboard."

"Alright."

He didn't mind this kind of interaction. It didn't require anything special.

Daisuke found the box he wanted and made his tea as quickly as he could without appearing desperate to get out of the kitchen. His headache wasn't getting any better, though, and what he really wanted was to go to sleep. The thought of eating dinner hadn't even registered in his mind.

When Emiko noticed Daisuke heading back toward the stairs, she frowned. "Do you have a lot of homework, honey?"

Daisuke stopped on his way and turned to smile at his mother. He hated lying to her. "Yeah, I'm sorry. Just call me when dinner's ready, okay Mom?"

"Sure." Her response was brimming with concern. She knew he wasn't coming down again that night.

By the time Daisuke was in his room again, his cup was half empty. Peppermint tea was so easy to drink; it cleared his head and let him breathe. He finished in another few eager gulps, inhaling it in a way that was better suited to a water bottle.

Placing the empty cup on his desk, Daisuke struggled to avoid letting his gaze fall on the canvas again. He couldn't bear the blank white, and yet for some reason he found himself unable to move or cover it. It was taunting him, this emptiness that would not disappear or be filled. All he could do was ignore it.

Wiz watched as Daisuke clambered up the ladder to his bed. He didn't even bother to change his clothes or pull up the sheets, and as soon as Wiz could make it up the ladder to join him, he was fast asleep. The tiny white creature whined, waited for a response, gave up in dismay, and nestled into Daisuke's side.

Wiz missed Daisuke almost as much as he missed Dark.


	2. Chapter 2

"Daisuke? Daisuke, wake up. C'mon, Daisuke!"

The boy stirred, his vermilion eyes fluttering open. The morning blinded him.

"That's right, get up. I don't care if it's Sunday."

Whose voice was that? No one else was in the room—was he dreaming?

Suddenly Daisuke bolted upright, looking around frantically for the source of the voice. A scowl took hold of his features when he heard it laugh.

"You idiot, it hasn't been _that _long. I know you didn't forget me."

Daisuke stopped breathing. His heart threatened to explode. His lungs were going to burst forth from his chest if he didn't let the air out soon.

The voice laughed again. Smugly, it said, "I knew you couldn't forget me."

"D-D-D-Dark! Dark, is that really you?" The poor boy could hardly believe it. It was too good to be true. Far too good.

"Are you okay? Your pulse is going crazy."

Daisuke laughed a grand, sparkling laugh, the kind he thought he'd lost. "I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine." His words were inadequate, but at the same time, it was all he could say. It was like seeing an older brother again after watching him die three years before. Daisuke was speechless, but at the same time, he had so much to say.

Just then, in fact, he came to a realization. He made a face and brought accusation into his voice, and he asked, "Wait a minute, Dark. If you were just going to come back, why did you use the seal? It seems like all of that struggling back then was pointless."

"Hey," Dark began in jest, "if you don't want me around, you can say it. Not like we could do anything about it, but—"

"No, you know it's not like that," Daisuke interrupted him hurriedly. The last thing he wanted was for the thief to disappear again. "I just don't understand what's going on."

Suddenly Dark's voice grew very serious. "You know you don't love her."

Daisuke blinked. "What?"

"You know it's true. You don't love her anymore."

"Who? Do you mean Riku? Dark, what are you talking about?"

"I'm here because your DNA is reacting again. Didn't you notice?"

This was more than frustrating. "Notice _what_, Dark?"

"No need to be so feisty," the phantom teased. "I'm trying to tell you that I didn't leave you until the minute Riku kissed you. That seal was meant for something entirely different."

"Different?"

"You don't love her."

Daisuke frowned. He hadn't been able to admit this to himself; it was painful.

"Your feelings of love are unrequited once again."

"Wait—but I don't love anyone—"

Suddenly a pair of pale arms snaked around Daisuke's waist. Somehow, he was unable to move… He could feel the soft tracing of lips against his ear as a voice much smoother and darker than any he could remember hearing came to whisper, "I'm not so sure."

In a flurry of feathers of black, white, and red, Daisuke felt himself surge forward; suddenly the morning brilliance of the room had faded to black night. The feathers were gone, though they had seemed to vanish while he wasn't looking. Now he realized he was sitting up in his bed, clutching the front of his shirt and gasping for air.

He hated dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

When he awoke again, it was late morning. He very nearly jumped out of bed to get ready for school, but then he was struck by the memory of Dark's voice. It was Sunday.

Daisuke didn't care much for Sundays. There was too much free time in a day without school—time with which he had nothing to do.

As the boy climbed sluggishly down the ladder from his bed, Wiz scampered down his body and reached the floor before he did. Daisuke didn't quite know what to make of this. It had been a long, long time since the little white creature had done anything so remarkably lively.

"Did you hear me say his name, Wiz?" Daisuke asked after a moment of consideration. Wiz responded enthusiastically; Daisuke sighed and offered him a sad smile. "I'm sorry, but I was dreaming. He isn't coming back, Wiz." With that, he placed Wiz on the sofa and headed downstairs, followed by the creature's confused and disappointed gaze.

Daisuke found the kitchen in a state of panic. Emiko was pacing and muttering to herself. Kousuke was in step with her, his hands on her shoulders, trying desperately to calm her down. Daiki was attempting a conversation with Kousuke, but this was a difficult task at the moment.

"I just don't understand, what does it mean?"

His interest spiked. He had to ask. "What's going on? What happened?"

Everyone in the room seemed to notice Daisuke all at once. In an instant, all three had surrounded the redhead; each talked over the other until finally he or she was satisfied with the telling of the story. When he didn't respond, they realized that their clamor had been too confusing for him to understand.

"Daisuke," Kousuke began, "do you remember the painting of the feathers in the basement?"

Already, he was frowning. He didn't like where this was going. "Of course I do. It was Dark's painting."

"Sort of. It was more like a representation of his soul."

Why hadn't he been told about that? Daisuke's frustration worsened the frown on his face as he grew to understand the extent of his ignorance. "What about it?"

Kousuke spoke up again. "The feathers faded when Dark sealed The Black Wings. His soul—along with the soul of the white demon—was locked away."

The white demon. Krad. Daisuke shivered.

"But yesterday, the feathers reappeared," Kousuke finished gravely. Daisuke could not believe his ears. So _that _was where his father had been the day before.

"They _what_? Does that mean Dark is back?"

Emiko sighed. "We don't know what it means, Dai. All we know is that his soul has been released into this world again. This usually happens when the Niwa male turns fourteen, but you and your grandfather are the only Niwa males alive."

Daisuke beamed. Dark was back. Even if he wasn't with him now, Dark was out there somewhere. That would explain his dream. But if that dream really _was _Dark, what had he been trying to say…?

"Daisuke, do you understand? You are not to leave the house at all until we figure this out!" Emiko sounded far too concerned to be talking about this—this was a good thing. This was a spectacular thing. How could she be so upset?

With a great deal of reluctance, Daisuke murmured, "Okay, Mom." This was the first time he had _wanted_ to leave the house since that day, and, of course, he couldn't.

In a very distracted way, the boy wondered whether he should tell his family about his dream. Part of him wanted desperately to surprise them with something that he knew and they didn't; the other part was afraid to make them worry any more than they had to. It was all extremely frustrating; Daisuke could feel the lines forming on his brow.

"Hey, Daisuke?" Kousuke's voice brought Daisuke's attention back to the matter at hand. "You okay, kid?"

Immediately, the trouble vanished from Daisuke's face, and he smiled. "I'm fine."

"This won't take long. I know you've missed him."

For the first time in years, Daisuke's eyes were alive.

Kousuke rose to follow Emiko and Daiki down into the basement. He grinned at his stunned son and told him, "We're going to figure out who—or what—broke the seal before this day is over. I cam promise you that. We're already down to two possibilities."

"Two?" Daisuke asked, but by the time he'd asked, Kousuke had disappeared down the hall.

Daisuke was at a loss as to what to do with himself while his family solved this mystery. As he trudged lazily over to the refrigerator to find breakfast, his mind raced with thoughts of the violet-haired phantom and the unnamed seal-breaker. He could think of only one person outside his family who would even understand the concept, and that was Satoshi. But there would be no reason whatsoever for Satoshi to break the seal, and so Daisuke dismissed the thought.

Again, he found himself hurt by the ignorance forced upon him by his family's secrecy. They had narrowed the potential culprits down to just two, and Daisuke couldn't even get one. He felt childish thinking about it, but it just wasn't fair.

As the redhead wallowed in self-pity, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and was about to add milk when a sudden revelation struck him. He nearly dropped the bottle in his haste, tripping up the stairs a few times before reaching his bedroom. Even then, he did not stop moving; he made a beeline for the easel in the corner and snatched up the palette, concocting a pale peach, then deep purple.

--

The painting took him little more than an hour or so. The canvas was fairly small, and the image had appeared so clearly in his mind that it had come out effortlessly on the blank white.

Daisuke stepped back to examine his work upon its completion. There it was: that face he had longed so much to see, with its flippant smirk and its gleaming eyes. There was the phantom thief, smiling at him from his two-dimensional frame.

"Forget the feathers; you've got your own representation of my soul right here in your room."

Daisuke's heart stuttered. For a moment, his hopes soared, but then he recalled his dream from the night before and shook his head. Hallucinations.

"You know, I came all this way to see you, but if you're going to ignore me, I'll leave."

Came all this way? What way? If Dark were really there, he would have been in Daisuke's head, and he knew it. It was just the painting; it was playing tricks on him.

"All right, but don't complain when you never see me again."

"Wait—!" Daisuke exclaimed desperately as he spun around, his back to the easel now.

There was no way.

Before his eyes stood a tall young man with a slender frame and strong features. A pair of violet eyes sparkled beneath a curtain of similarly colored hair. He was dressed in black and his arms were crossed over his chest, and there was a grin on his face that matched the one on the canvas.

He was really there.

"Dark! Dark, are you real? Is that really you?"

The phantom chuckled. "No," he said, his voice laden with sarcasm, "I'm actually Satoshi Hiwatari in disguise."

Daisuke barely cared to acknowledge the humor. "But how are you standing here in front of me? You must be a hallucination, just like last night—"

"Last night was real, too. You were the last person whose soul was connected to mine, so I guess it stayed that way." Dark smiled and stepped toward Daisuke, reaching out to tousle his hair. "I've got my own body now, that's all."

"But how? How on earth did that happen? My entire family is freaking out, Dark. What's going on?"

The thief laughed again. "I already told you, it's your DNA. You are once again a victim of unrequited love."

"Even if that were true," Daisuke began with flushed cheeks, "why would you come back with your own body?"

"Well, this has never happened before. The Sacred Maiden has always been a permanent thing. Maybe that has something to do with it. Or maybe…"

Daisuke glared at the violet-haired phantom. "Maybe what?"

"Your love may be mutual after all, Daisuke."

"But I'm not in love!" This was so much more than frustrating. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment.

The smirk on Dark's face was infuriating. Daisuke suddenly recalled his habit of being completely oblivious, and he scowled. "I think you are," the thief said smugly. "I saw that dream last night."

Daisuke's pink-tinged cheeks turned scarlet. "You're insane! There's no way I could—"

"But that's the only way."

The redhead refused to respond.

"Look, Daisuke. There's only one combination of events that could end with me standing here in my own body. Both your curse and the Hikari curse must be broken. You already know what triggers your curse. The Hikari curse is the opposite."

Daisuke frowned. "Someone… has to fall in love with Hikari?"

"No, no, no—instead of Satoshi's feelings, the Hikari curse is triggered by Krad's. Breaking the Hikari curse requires the heartless demon to fall in love."

A shiver ran through Daisuke's body. In love? Krad? "That's ridiculous."

"Only as ridiculous as your love being returned," Dark retorted. Daisuke blushed.

"I am not in love with Krad!" he suddenly exclaimed.

Now a startlingly high-pitched voice sounded like a bell from the stairway: "Dai? Why are you shouting? Is someone—"

Daisuke stared wide-eyed at Emiko as she came to a screeching halt at the sight of Dark. While Dark grinned a devious grin for the woman he saw as his mother, Daisuke wore an expression of panicked embarrassment. Luckily, she was too focused on the phantom to comprehend anything else.

"Long time no see," Dark greeted Emiko, his voice warm.

Stunned, the poor woman could hardly think straight at all, let alone come up with a proper reply. After a pause, she muttered something that shocked both Daisuke and Dark: "Oh… oh, my… Kousuke was right…?"


	4. Chapter 4

In spite of the surprise, Dark wore a nonchalant grin

In spite of the surprise, Dark wore a nonchalant grin. "Hey, Mom. Long time, no see."

Emiko's eyes were fixed intently on the thief for a moment until they darted to Daisuke, lingering for a minute and then flicking back to Dark. For a long time, no one spoke again.

Daisuke couldn't stand it. He had to break the silence. "Right about what?"

This question seemed to return comprehension to Emiko's mind; clarity illuminated her face and she ignored her son's inquiry to ask Dark a question of her own. "Your powers are gone, aren't they?"

A series of lines formed on Daisuke's brow as his question was shoved aside. It was always like this—he just wasn't quite important enough.

"Afraid so," the thief admitted. "I only got here because of Wiz. He still comes when I call."

"What!" Daisuke cried, both astonished and insulted. Dark's powers were gone, but Wiz was still willing to be his wings?

Again, the boy's voice was unheard.

"I just can't believe it," Emiko breathed. "That… _demon_… is that really the only way this could have happened?"

Oh, wonderful. She already knew.

Dark shrugged. "The only way I ever knew. I didn't think he had a heart." The phantom shot a teasing glance in Daisuke's direction, then returned his gaze to Emiko. "It'd take a special person to get through to that one."

When she saw the furious red that had boiled up in her son's cheeks, Emiko began to grow suspicious. "Dark, you aren't suggesting that Dai…?"

Dark burst into laughter. Daisuke couldn't believe it—the thief was helping him.

"Daisuke and _Krad_? Are you _kidding_?" Dark said through his cleverly forced laughter. For some reason Daisuke didn't understand, he almost felt offended by the ridicule.

Emiko sighed. "I was just making sure."

_You can thank me later_, Dark's voice sounded in Daisuke's mind. The boy looked up at him to reply but saw Dark still laughing and looking at Emiko, and he realized that the comment had been telepathic.

"Still, I wonder who it could be," Emiko pondered, much to Dark's (genuine) amusement.

Chuckling, the thief replied, "Well, whoever it is, they don't know what they've gotten themselves into. I'll have to thank them for getting me my own body, though." Dark stole another sneaky glance at Daisuke.

Suddenly something seemed to dawn on Emiko. "Oh!" she exclaimed, her face full of worry, "I need to tell Kousuke! I'll be right back—"

"Wait," Dark demanded; the woman froze. "I haven't talked with Daisuke in three years. Do you think the big reunion could wait a while?"

Emiko looked at her son and found a living warmth in his eyes, and she decided she was glad to have it back. There was a convincing quality to the mixture of this warmth and Dark's persuasive voice.

And so, at a loss for words, Emiko merely smiled, nodded, and left the room.

A moment of silence passed as the two boys waited until Emiko was out of earshot. Daisuke couldn't seem to get his thoughts through to Dark—he had been trying ever since Dark had used the connection earlier—and it was very frustrating.

Giving up, Daisuke spoke, "Thank you, Dark. But I don't understand. I already told you that I'm not in love with Krad, so why would you try to hide it?"

"I wish you were right," Dark answered with a sigh. "Sometimes I think you're a little ignorant, Daisuke."

Ignorant. What perfect word choice.

"_I _wish you would stop being so difficult. How are you so sure you're right?"

"You know, my favorite part of this is that you're denying that you're in love with Krad, but not that you're _gay_. Really, you're overlooking the embarrassing part."

At this, Daisuke's eyes grew wide and his cheeks flamed. He hadn't even thought about that. "I'm _not _gay! I love—"

"Miss Riku!" Dark sung the words. "Right. I'm sure. That's why you've been dreaming about a blond _man _ever since you were fourteen." There was a hint of contemptuous venom in Dark's voice.

"Excuse me?" the redhead asked, equally disgusted. "I don't remember that. How would you know, anyway?"

Something of a combination of distaste and dejection formed a sigh in Dark's throat. "Even when I was still a part of you, I knew. He was all you could think about. Well, when you weren't forcing him out of your mind, that is. Your dreams were full of him, plus Hiwatari and the Haradas, in that order of frequency. You only let yourself remember the ones about Risa." Daisuke didn't notice the traces of red that had risen in the phantom's cheeks.

All he knew was that this wasn't fair—he didn't like his mind being treated like an open book, much less when the text involved something like this.

"I don't get it. I thought you hated Krad; why would you be so determined to convince me that I love him?"

"I do hate Krad. I also hate it when you fail to realize your true feelings. I've always told you that, Daisuke." In a very resigned way, the thief continued, "I'm not sure I could ever tolerate the idea of you being anywhere near that sadistic psycho, and I have no idea why you would ever _want _to be near him. But I'm afraid I don't have the right to stop you. If my job is to protect you, I'll have to do it objectively. Petty hatred shouldn't stand in the way of… of _love_."

Daisuke stood in silence, his mind struggling to accept this profound generosity. It seemed uncharacteristic of the violet-haired thief.

"I meant what I said earlier, too," Dark added suddenly, almost as an afterthought. "I think you must be something else to have fallen for someone like that. But I also think you must be twice as special to have gotten him to fall for you, too." Another heavy sigh, and he finished: "He's insane, Daisuke. I can't tell you what to do, but I can beg you to be careful."

The boy didn't know what to say. While a part of him was immensely shocked by this burst of consideration, the rest felt unfairly exposed. All of this reminded him vaguely of the times he used to try and convince Dark of his feelings for Risa, except in this case the feelings didn't actually exist. They couldn't.

How could he have fallen in love without even knowing it? That by itself was intolerable at best, but it would have been better if he had at least realized it. Even so, Daisuke found himself feeling very resigned. He was no longer able to deny what Dark had said. It had been established so strongly as indisputable fact that Daisuke could do naught but accept it.

And yet it seemed an impossible concept. Daisuke hadn't seen Krad in three years, but the curse was only broken recently. That meant that his feelings had been set in motion when Dark was still around. Admittedly, Daisuke had always been fascinated by the beautiful white demon, and he had certainly pitied him. He could always tell that the ghastly angel must have been lonely, and so he had always felt sympathy for him. But to call it love seemed a bit much.

But he couldn't deny it.

"Hey, Dark?"

"Yeah?"

"Is he back, too?"

"Yeah."

"In his own body? No powers?"

"Right."

"Do I really love him?"

"I wish you didn't."

"And he loves me?"

Dark shivered.

"What should I do?"

The thief turned away with his eyes shut tight. "I have no idea."

"Dark?"

Daisuke found striking purple eyes looking back at him, and he sighed. This was a scary question to ask.

"Why do you and Krad hate each other?" The question came out in a soft and timid way. And rightly so; the pained expression on Dark's face told Daisuke he shouldn't have asked.

Frantically, apologetically, Daisuke almost shouted, "No, no, nevermind, don't answer that. I'm sorry. It doesn't matter."

"I feel like a hypocrite," Dark muttered. Daisuke blinked. "Here I am forcing all of this on you when I hate the bastard—and I keep telling you to realize your true feelings when I don't even—"

"Oh, come on, Dark," Daisuke interrupted, smiling at the change of subject. "You and I both know you're in love with Risa." When Dark didn't answer, Daisuke told him, "She misses you, you know. She still loves you."

At this, the thief's eyes glittered. "Risa? But I don't know…" The lack of confidence in his voice seemed mismatched with the delighted spark in his eyes.

"Yes, you do. You do know. She misses you terribly and you know you want to go to her, don't you?"

Dark frowned. "I've been alive for 400 years, Daisuke, and I've never been in love. Not _really _in love. I've had girlfriends, sure. But I'm afraid to even think about Risa. I'm afraid I'll hurt her like I hurt the others."

Daisuke was taken aback. It seemed sincerity was a persevering quality that night.

"That alone should mean something, Dark. Your fear of hurting Risa means that you care deeply for her. If you—"

Daisuke was suddenly interrupted by his mother's voice calling up the stairs. "Dai, there's a phone call for you! It's Riku."

The hearts of both boys seemed to fall to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

The phone was heavy in Daisuke's hand

The phone was heavy in Daisuke's hand. His voice seemed as though it were hiding, only brave enough to poke its head out from his lips.

"Hey, Riku."

"Listen, Daisuke," Riku practically spat; she sounded vexed. "My sister has a question for you, but she refuses to ask you herself. She's being ridiculous."

"What's wrong?" Daisuke asked, the trepidation morphing into concern. "Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's just fussing over her tarot cards again."

Daisuke couldn't suppress the chuckle that had bubbled up in his throat. She was still reading tarot. He shot a glance at Dark, who was watching from the stairway; although he was still unwilling to reunite with Daisuke's family, the sound of Risa's sister's name had inspired enough hope in him to at least get him out of the redhead's bedroom.

Riku's frustrated response startled Daisuke. "It's so _stupid_—she thinks Dark is back."

Daisuke froze. _Risa _knew? Could the tarot cards even tell her something like that?

Frantically, Daisuke looked at Dark again, meeting a gaze that was half as confused as his was horrified. There was a silence that seemed to press down on his lungs and incapacitate them; he could not speak.

Now there was a touch of poorly concealed worry in Riku's voice. "Daisuke? Say something. She's wrong, right? There's no way…"

Daisuke couldn't look away from Dark. He couldn't move. He saw Dark's lips moving silently, but he couldn't comprehend the words being mouthed.

"Daisuke, are you there?"

He had to say something. "I'm sorry, I'm here. I… I was laughing."

Finally, a start. Now he could respond.

"Laughing?" Riku asked; she sounded as though she knew the answer but had to hear it just to be sure.

"It was so funny—I had to cover the phone. There's no way that could happen, Riku. I explained it to you, didn't I? I love you—"

Almost instantaneously, an infuriated phantom thief was at Daisuke's side. In one single, swift motion, Dark ripped the phone from Daisuke's fingers and slammed it down on the table to his left.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouted, much to the smaller boy's frightened dismay. "How could you _lie _like that? You can't just keep leading her on, Daisuke! Sooner or later, _he's_ going to show up, and—"

A click that was somehow both faint and startlingly loud brought Dark to a screeching halt. Neither boy spoke until a shrill, jarring note began to pulse repeatedly from beneath the phantom's hand. Even then, it took them both a moment to realize that the source of this sound was the phone.

He hadn't hung up.

"Oh, no! Dark!" Daisuke wailed. "Why did you have to do that? She heard _everything_!"

"You were lying! Did you want to hold on to that… that _farce _this badly?" He seemed to spit the words, his tone indignant and contemptuous.

With scarlet cheeks and a wet shine in his glaring eyes, Daisuke cried, "Everything was perfect! Everyone was happy! That was the way things were _supposed _to be!"

"No, Daisuke. Everyone wasn't happy. You were miserable."

"I don't care! She loves me, Dark!"

The thief shook his head, a sort of angry calm about him. "That may be true. But tell me—would you rather know the truth, or just be told beautiful lies your whole life?"

For this, Daisuke had no reply. He wasn't sure.

"Either way, I can't let you keep this up. You've twisted your life up so badly, it's no wonder it took you so long to realize your feelings. There was so much deception in your life that you even fooled yourself."

Sourly, Daisuke retorted, "I never _realized _anything, Dark. _You _realized it _for _me."

"What else was I supposed to do? If I didn't tell you, you would have gone on in that sham you called a life and I would have had to pretend I didn't notice."

Again, Daisuke was left without words. He had lost this fight.

After an appropriately timed pause, he muttered bitterly, "I have to call Riku back and clean up the mess you've made."

"If you lie, I'll know."

Daisuke said nothing but kept dialing the Haradas' number. It had barely begun to ring when the call was answered; but the voice on the other end was not Riku's.

"H-hello?" the word came out strained and especially high-pitched.

"Risa?" Daisuke asked worriedly. Dark's expression became alert and full of concern, and suddenly he was listening twice as intently. "What's wrong? Are you crying?"

"Is it true? M-my reading… Did the cards lie to me?"

Though he had only just stopped, Daisuke nearly began to cry again. He felt so bad for her, he had to make her feel better.

"No, no, Risa, I'm the liar. I know it's confusing, but you were right, I promise. Dark is here."

There was a sound that seemed to be a combination of a gasp and an immensely relieved sigh; and then suddenly Risa was completely silent. The tiny sounds of her crying had ceased—as a matter of fact, Daisuke couldn't even hear her breathing.

Finally, she spoke; her voice, though bereft of tears, was hesitant and apprehensive. "Um… Daisuke?"

"Yes?"

"Could I… talk to him?"

It struck him then that she was unaware of the new physical separation between Dark and himself. Another wave of sibling-like sympathy washed over him and he wanted nothing more than to make her smile.

"Of course you can, Risa. Well, wait, hold on—" Daisuke covered the mouthpiece of the phone and was about to ask when Dark interrupted him.

"Tell her to go up to the fountain. I want to do this in person."

Daisuke smiled and nodded as the phantom slipped away. Removing his hand from the phone, he said, "He's waiting for you at the fountain, Risa."

"What? But how… I thought you were the same… person?"

"It's a little hard to explain, but the curse has been broken. I really mean _broken_—it wasn't just suppressed this time. We're split."

Another gasp, this time infused with a bit of laughter. "Thank you, Daisuke! Thank you so much!"

"Wait, Risa—what about Riku?" Too late; there was the click. Daisuke sighed and placed the phone back on its base.

As Daisuke turned to return to his room, the doorbell rang as though on cue. He froze. He knew who it was.

Out of habit, though this time in a very reluctant way, he called out, "I'll get it!"

When he opened the door, he was greeted by some painful mixture of a punch and a slap to the face.

"You jerk!"

"Riku, I'm sorry—"

"Why didn't you tell me you were gay?"


End file.
